The best horror films tap into some sort of real life fear and extrapolate that fright into something concrete that you can physically run from or attack head on, with a flamethrower or a chainsaw. Cooties is far from anyone’s idea of a great horror film, but as an exercise in genre experimentation, it’s enough of a lark to not feel like a waste. The premise is impressive in its efficiency. Elijah Wood is Clint, a failed novelist who substitute teaches at the elementary school he once attended as a child. Thanks to an infected chicken nugget that presents itself in the film’s surprisingly brilliant opening sequence, all the little asshole kids that go to his school are turned into cannibal zombie demons.
The two nice kids are immune from the “virus” (one for being a loner nerd, the other for experiencing menstruation) and have to hole up with Clint and a small cast of absurd supporting characters, among them Wood’s childhood crush (Alison Pill, slumming it) and her douchebag PE teacher boyfriend (Rainn Wilson, being given entirely too wide a berth.) SNL vet Nasim Pedrad and Jack McBrayer of “30 Rock” make the best of one-note caricatures (“angry bitch” and “secretly gay” respectively) despite both being out-weirded by co-writers Leigh Whannell and Ian Brennan as an insane science teacher and the idiot acting principal. Hugo from “Lost” (Jorge Garcia) also phones it in as a perpetually stoned security guard. The cast tries to give life to some cutesy dialogue that’s a little too precious to actually be funny, but every so often a great line clicks among the din of long lobs (“Follow me! I do crossfit!”)
As a horror comedy in the vein of Army of Darkness, it comes close to the mark, aiming broad with gross out gore, absurdist set pieces and a largely likable tenor. Wood’s writer character is about as detestable as you’d expect, coming off like someone’s feature length diss record aimed at Zach Braff, so there’s an embedded sense of hypocrisy within the adult cast to foster second act growth. Sadly, the film overextends itself at multiple turns, trying to make the audience swallow moments of genuine emotion at odds with the first act’s gleefully devil may care attitude. You can’t luxuriate in not giving any kinds of fuck about realism or relatability and then expect filmgoers to join you in no less than two giant tone swerves. This is no Shaun of The Dead. Taken alone, the film’s funnier parts and its resonance-seeking stretches work just fine, but in tandem, they diminish one another to the point of offense.
In the middle of the film, there’s a tense moment when one of the teachers has to kill one of the infected students. For whatever reason, this scene is given space for recollection. The character who does the deed is affected by it. They almost get away with shifting the movie’s aims, but then, with just as much reckless abandon, it returns with humor, expecting us to laugh and marvel at sequences of monster hell children being mowed down like walkers. At one point, the film even sets an entire bouncy house full of them on fire! Cooties is fine if you want to watch a movie about elementary school kids getting bludgeoned with fire extinguishers and then set ablaze, but the filmmakers should have been more consistent with the mood. The film’s over-the-top insanity is easier to process without being forced to ponder such a uniquely twisted blood lust.
Although it’s flawed, Cooties is an otherwise brisk and tightly plotted movie. Giving Cooties a chance isn’t the worst idea and there’s more than enough to love, especially if you can stomach Rainn Wilson being way too pleased with himself as an on screen presence. If, however, anything described above gave you even the briefest moment of pause, this may as well have been titled Your Mileage May Vary. I’d suggest spending an afternoon with one of your little bastard nephews, or maybe a co-worker’s kid and see if you end up changing your tune.